


how do i keep myself from kissing you?

by elizaeverafter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Cas is in love, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Like, M/M, Physics, Pining, Roommates, absolute sap, bobby has terrible taste in decor but we been knew, brief mention of torque, hardcore pining, im sorry, oh my god they were roommates, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 12:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaeverafter/pseuds/elizaeverafter
Summary: “You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you” AU.





	how do i keep myself from kissing you?

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to @origami-teacup on tumblr for the prompt idea! this is my second fanfic ever written and my first posted so please be nice :D
> 
> EDIT: @white_moony kindly translated this fic into russian so check it out here!! https://ficbook.net/readfic/8352530

Castiel is going insane. And like most things, it’s Dean’s fault.

It all started earlier in the night. Well, actually, it all started at age nine when him and Dean became neighbors and then subsequently joined at the hip. But fast forward through those eleven years of friendship, and it all started earlier tonight.

Dean has a physics exam coming up. Castiel knows this; it’s been practically tattooed on his brain with the amount of times Dean has complained to him. And yet, pulling on the weight of his bookbag and fumbling with his keys as he enters their shared apartment, Castiel’s mind blanks as to why Dean is in front of him, sprawled out on the couch looking equal parts GQ model and a seven year old at a sleepover.

His keys clink as he drops them in the decorative bowl they keep sitting on a side table (it’s one of the ugliest pieces Castiel has ever seen, but Bobby bought it for them and Dean is too sentimental to throw it away). Dean looks up, and Castiel’s heart catches in his chest.

Dean’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajamas, which are also the softest pair he owns. Castiel knows this after sleeping over and forgetting to bring pajamas one too many times (and then when Dean always gave him this pair...maybe Castiel started forgetting on purpose). Dean’s hair is all ruffled and spiked up in odd areas, which means that he’s been running a hand through it at least thrice every ten minutes in stress. He’s wearing an old band tee, gray material that’s seen too many washes and is tight around his arms now.

Castiel goes through Dean’s appearance, cataloging every point of notice, all in a few seconds. And then Dean smiles, tired but pleased to see him, and Cas falls even more in love.

It’s hardly a secret, that is, to everyone except Dean. Cas frankly doesn’t know when his feelings for his best friend transformed into something deeper, but it’s too much of a cliche for him to dwell on it, so he doesn’t. Charlie knows, and Benny knows, and Cas could bet his old pet guinea pig that Sam knows too, though he thankfully has never brought it up.

Cas doesn’t understand how Dean couldn’t _not_ know. He feels like every time he looks at his best friend of eleven years and roommate of two and a half and lover of absolutely zero, the love is bursting from every fond word he speaks, every crinkle of his nose.

People assume that Cas doesn’t _do_ the whole romance thing, whatever that means. Sure, he’s slept with a few people, because it’s college and he has needs that sometimes his hand can’t make go away. But it’s never lasted more than a couple nights per person, and his friends used to ask why, but they eventually got used to it. Dean was the only one who never questioned him, about this or about anything else. He always took whatever Cas did in stride.

And now, Dean’s sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, papers surrounding him in a messy but organized manner, and Cas uses all of his willpower to not rush over and flop right beside Dean and press his side close to the other man’s.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean greets, running a hand through his hair once again. His shirt is a bit short, so it lifts up a tad and Cas gets a good eyeful of golden skin dotted with freckles even on his hips. Yes, Cas is going insane.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says as usual, has been saying since he moved next door to the Winchesters. He glances around, and his suspicions are confirmed. Cas doesn’t see a single glass, plate, or bowl in sight. Knowing Dean, he got too immersed in studying and hasn’t eaten or drank anything in hours.

Cas sighs and heads to the kitchen.

Dean’s voice, slurred with confusion, asks, “What are you doing?”

“Dean, it’s past 9 pm and I could bet all of my savings, although meager, that you haven’t consumed anything at least since 4.”

Dean’s silence is guilty. Cas catches himself smiling in a goofy way and quickly schools his features back to neutral. Not his fault he fell in love with an absolute idiot.

He quickly reheats some pasta and adds a few chopped vegetables to it before plating some for him and his roommate. He isn’t particularly hungry, but he hasn’t seen much of Dean the past four days due to conflicting schedules, and sue him, he _misses_ Dean.

When he enters back into the living room, Cas notices that Dean’s shuffled most of his papers to the side to make room for him. As he sets the plates and forks down on the coffee table that’s more often used as a dining spot, Dean touches his wrist.

Dean’s grinning. “You’ll make the perfect wife someday.”

Cas rolls his eyes but can’t help but wish Dean had said _husband_ instead. Had said it seriously instead of teasingly. “Shut up and eat your pasta.”

Dean does as told, and instantly, Cas wishes he hadn’t brought pasta. He should’ve known better. Dean always makes happy noises when eating pasta, especially so when Cas has made it. Usually it’s not a big deal; he just jabs Dean lightly in the ribs to quiet down but smiles, pleased. Right now though, with Dean dressed so soft and inviting, and his hair all messed up and fluffy, and the lines around his eyes crinkled from smiling, and his freckles looking absolutely adorable and beautiful in the dim lighting...Cas is trying his damndest to not push aside the pasta and press his lips over Dean’s. The moans are not helping.

Cas mumbles a, “ _Dean_ ,” the tips of his ears red.

Dean looks up, eyelashes beautifully framing his mischievous green eyes. “Sorry, right, no noises. Bad manners. I’ll just have to appreciate your godly cooking in silence.”

They eat and talk for the better part of an hour. It’s wonderful having his best friend back from the clutches of academia, even for a little bit, but it’s not enough. Cas wants to make it all go away. He wants Dean to always be happy and comfortable and not worrying over torque goddamnit. And he wants to be right by Dean’s side. Forever.

It’s a realization that’s not much of a realization. Somewhere in his heart, Cas knew he’d never be able to let go of Dean. He can’t even imagine a couple weeks away from the other man, much less years or the rest of his life.

And it’s probably pathetic. Cas knows Dean has a life outside of these walls they’ve spent years together in (metaphorically and literally). Cas has even seen Dean go through several girlfriends, some relationships lasting a couple years while others barely scraping the three month mark.

At first he attributed his jealousy to the fact that he had to share Dean with someone else. Someone else would take away time with his best friend, and Cas could hardly stand the thought of that, much less the reality. Eventually though, as the years passed, Cas grew to accept it.

Dean loves him, of course he does. But Cas knows that Dean doesn’t love him the way _he_ loves _Dean_. He knows that Dean’s heart doesn’t soothe just from hearing Cas’ voice or race from seeing Cas without a shirt on. Cas knows it isn’t like that, and he’s okay with it. He’ll take Dean however he can get him, for as long as he’ll have Cas.

So if that means that after seeing Dean grin happy and sated from the pasta, Cas has to keep his hands and lips to himself even though he just wants to kiss Dean senseless and mess up his hair even more, then Cas can deal with it.

After dinner, Cas goes to his own bedroom to finish working on an assignment while Dean continues studying in their living room. Dean has always preferred not doing his work in his bedroom. He says that it’s because his bedroom is only a place of pleasure (accompanied by an atrocious wink), but Cas guesses it’s more that Dean hates being alone unless necessary. And even if Cas isn’t home, the living room is still more lively than being shut up in his own room.

Normally, Cas loves spending time with Dean. But Dean’s voice is getting soft and he’s starting to mumble his words in a way that makes Cas’ heart melt, and Cas knows that staying in the same room with his roommate will result in exactly zero percent of his assignment being completed. As much as he’d deny, Cas has a tendency to put work ahead no matter what. It’s landed him one of the highest GPAs in his major, but it’s also why his social life isn’t as happening as he wishes it was.

Around one in the night, Cas leaves his bedroom to grab a Monster drink. He started drinking them occasionally freshman year to help with all-nighters, but two years later, he’s practically (and embarrassingly) addicted.

Dean hates his habit, but if Cas is silent, Dean won’t even stir from his immersed state. He silently trods to the kitchen and winces when the fridge makes a rather loud squeak. On the way back, though, he can’t help himself and heads to the living room to take a quick peek at his best friend.

Cas is expecting to see Dean with even more papers surrounding him, maybe even furiously typing at his laptop, but definitely past stressed and on the path to frustrated.

Instead Cas sees Dean half-laying on the couch in a position that looks like a recipe for next-day neck pain, eyes closed with an open notebook in his hand. Cas tells himself that he keeps staring to make sure that Dean truly is asleep, but he knows that it’s actually because Dean looks angelic, sprawled across their ratty, thrifted cushions. Cas is sure that he’s never been more in love.

Cas is only religious at the best of times (or the worst of times), but he catches himself sending a short prayer along the lines of _Please, please let me come home to this sight every day for the rest of my life…_

Cas shuffles over, and despite the fact that his heart is screaming to just join Dean and wrap his arms around his broad shoulders, Cas gently nudges him. The two of them have a pact in which they don’t let the other fall asleep in the middle of work. It’s been a blessing in the past but watching Dean’s small smile and forehead void of any tension lines, it feels like curse to Cas.

Dean doesn’t wake up. Cas prods a bit harder, but Dean is still dead to the world. Cas resorts to shaking and groans, “Dean, get up. You have to work. No falling asleep in the middle of studying, remember?”

Dean stretches, opens his eyes the teeniest bit, smiles languidly, and mumbles something that sounds a lot like _I finished, you doofus, don’t worry._

Cas smiles despite himself and goes to make his way back to his room when a pressure on his wrist stops him. Dean’s wrapped his fingers around Cas’ wrist almost tightly, and he’s now pulling.

“Dean…?” Cas is confused.

“Mmm stay.” Dean’s looking up at him and blinking slowly and Cas needs to go to the hospital because his heart _can’t take this_.

“What? Dean, there are papers everywhere.” Cas is trying to be sensible but all he can focus on are Dean’s fingers on his wrist and Dean’s mouth as he does a yawn that has no right being this cute.

At this, Dean, still more than half-asleep, pushes all the paper around him and on top of him to the ground, burrowing deeper into the couch. He half lifts his arms as if to say _Come here._

Cas looks around, confused, his heart pounding and his breath quickening and half of his brain shouting at him to fall into Dean’s warm embrace while the other half tells him to look around for beer bottles. “Dean, are you drunk?”

Dean does a small giggle, though his voice remains low when he says, “No, ‘m just tired. Come _on_ ,” and pulls on Cas’ wrist hard enough to make him stumble and nearly fall into Dean’s lap.

Dean looks delighted at this new development that’s worked entirely in his favor and Cas has a million questions, but Dean’s pulling him further down until Cas’ head is pillowed in the crook of Dean’s neck and Dean’s arms are comforting weights on his back.

He’s tired too, and Dean is just so soft and warm, and Cas thinks, _This is the best dream I’ve had in awhile_ , before falling asleep himself.

Cas wakes up in the morning with Dean’s legs entangled in his and Dean’s finger tracing patterns on his arm. Cas freezes, unsure of how he got here, but the discovery that last night _wasn’t_ a dream washes over him. He’s almost afraid to look up and see Dean’s face, assuming that he’s currently asleep and shit will hit the fan when he wakes up and figures out what’s happened.

Cas doesn’t want to lose his best friend, but he knows that that might very well be a strong possibility. Dean will realize Cas’ true feelings for him because even though it takes two to tango (or in this case, cuddle on the couch), Dean can explain his actions by stating that he was simply sleep addled and not thinking straight. What’s Cas’ excuse?

With a heavy heart, Cas decides to look up and commit Dean’s features to memory one more time because this is probably the last time he’ll ever get to be so close.

When Cas slowly lifts his head though, he’s shocked to find that Dean’s already staring at him. What’s more, he isn’t staring in disgust or despair, but rather with fondness. The look obviously doesn’t register deeply enough to Cas because he immediately starts stammering, “Dean, I — I’m so, I don’t know what —”

Dean cuts him off, his voice steady and his face fuzzy in the morning light. “Do you care about morning breath?”

Cas is expecting anything but that so it takes him a second to process the question. “Huh?”

“I said,” and Cas notices that Dean hasn’t stopped making intricate yet loose lines and shapes on his skin, “do you care about morning breath? Does it bother you?”

Cas crinkles his nose in confusion. “Not particularly, but what does that —”

Dean kisses him. Cas can’t tell if it’s a good kiss or a bad one, because it’s so short and barely more than a simple press of lips and against lips and Cas’ brain is running into overdrive.

He exhales softly when they part, “Dean?”

Dean smiles, his beautiful teeth on display. “I have wanted to do that for _years_ , did you know that?”

“But...but…” Cas is at a loss for words.

It’s then that Dean frowns, his eyes growing fearful. “Did I miss read the situation? Do you...Oh, god, did I fuck everything up?”

Cas can see it in his eyes that he’s about to disentangle himself and possibly go somewhere Cas won’t be able to reach him, so he hugs Dean closer to his chest, the puzzle pieces falling into place in his mind. “You didn’t misread anything. I do want this. I just thought _you_ didn’t.”

Dean huffs a laugh that borders on bittersweet, “Are you kidding me? I went nearly insane everyday trying not to reveal my feelings. All I ever wanted was this. You.”

“But...you’ve only ever had girlfriends.”

Dean shakes his head, grinning genuinely. “Remember Aaron Bass? _Definitely_ not just a buddy.”

It’s like everything is lining up just right and Cas still isn’t sure that this whole thing isn’t an elaborate dream. But then Dean kisses him again, and Cas concedes, knowing that even in his wildest dreams he wouldn’t be able to get the feelings of Dean’s plush lips just right.

They separate only to lean against each other’s foreheads and Cas thinks this moment couldn’t be any more perfect. “If you’ve wanted to do this for years then why now? What changed last night?”

Dean’s mouth curves into a smile and it’s glorious because Cas can _feel_ it. “Guess I couldn’t handle how adorable you look coming home all rumpled in your button up shirts and backwards ties anymore. Guess there was finally a limit to how crazy you could make me.”

And Cas laughs and laughs and laughs, his chest light and his cheeks rosy because _seriously_?

**Author's Note:**

> if you like this and want more of my writing, head on over to @elizaeverafter on tumblr and send me a prompt! share your love with kudos & comments, I need them for sustenance. thank you for reading and I hope you have a lovely day/night <3


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